


What If?

by RueRambunctious



Series: Oh Love You Fool Universe [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adorable Richard, Bottom Richard, Fantasizing, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Spanking, Top Severin, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8315170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueRambunctious/pseuds/RueRambunctious
Summary: Richie loves Christmas, and is overenthusiastic enough to try to wake the fearsome criminal mastermind Jim Moriarty at the crack of dawn.Jim almost lets Severin punish Richard for it. Richie almost wishes he had, because he absolutely has a crush on Rinn.(Follows on from the last chapter of 'Oh Jim, You Fool' but can be read as a standalone. Smuttier.)





	

Jim get _up_ ,” Richard whines.

“Richie, if you don't _shut the fuck up and let me sleep_ I'll order Severin to punish you,” Jim shouts.

“Is that my present?” Richard responds wittily, then the grin falls from his face as he notices Rinn watching him with an interested look in his sleepy eyes.

Richie flushes scarlet and takes a step back.

Severin strides over and steps past Sebastian and Janey to stick his head around the door. “Does that mean I've got permission to put Richard over my knees for making all this racket at this fucking ungodly hour?” he asks.

“Yes!” Jim snarls into his pillow.

Richie's heart jumps into his mouth and he takes another step back, squeaking as Rinn reaches out and snatches the front of his pajama top.

“Wait, no!” Jim cries, sitting up quickly. “ _Don't touch my brother!_ ”

“Make up your mind, Boss,” Rinn responds calmly, not letting go of the wide-eyed Richard.

“Why are you punishing me?” Richie whines.

 

Richard takes a deep breath and bites his lip, flushing. His brother had recovered his protective sensibilities and called Severin off before the muscled blond could go through with his threat, but Richie had seen the heat in Rinn's eyes.

Severin would have totally punished Richard had Jim agreed.

Or at least, Richie thought so. And the thought was enough that his blood didn't know whether to rush to his face or his groin.

So he was blushing, and half-hard, and…

And Richie was alone in his room, and it was the middle of the night, and…

And Richie hadn't touched himself the entire time he'd stayed with Jim. Not even after Severin kissed him, standing on Jim's bed underneath the mistletoe Sebastian had put there.

No one would _know_. So long as Richie was quiet.

Well, Janey would know, because she knew everything, and Jim would know, because he knew Richie, but Severin wouldn't know, and that was the important thing.

Richard bites his lips, twitching his fingers, feeling wicked and guilty for just _thinking_ about touching himself… whilst thinking of Severin.

No one would _know_. And that intense look in Rinn's eyes as he had grabbed the front of Richie's pajama top…

Like Severin wanted to hurt Richie, but in a delicious way. An awful, dirty, wonderful way that had Richard twitching.

He sighs and scoots into a more comfortable position, resting his hand over himself, squeezing a little over the fabric.

How can his cheeks possibly be this hot when he's this hard?

Because he shouldn't be doing this, a little voice in the back of his mind responded. It was dirty and wrong and Richie absolutely shouldn't be thinking like this about Jim's staff. About Jim's boyfriend's _twin brother_.

Richard tries not to think about whether he and Severin would fit together as perfectly as Sebastian and Jim seem to.

Richie's brows knot as wetness begins to seep through to his fingers. He should really stop, before he's faced with a real mess.

Instead Richard raises his hips and quietly tugs down the waistband of his soft, cartoon character pajama bottoms. 

The sheets are cool against his exposed skin, the smoothness teasing against his dripping tip, and Richie slides a hand nervously onto himself.

Doesn't start moving at first, just squeezes his eyes closed and pictures Severin's sleepy, intense, heated stare. That promising stare.

Like Severin absolutely wanted to leave Richard hot and sore, and might even kiss him better afterwards.

Ohhh…

Richie can't help it. His hand starts to move of its own accord, stroking him slowly. Gingerly, unpractised, guiltily, ...needfully.

Richard imagines Severin's rough, purposeful stride into Jim's room. Body language commanding and confident.

God, Rinn was so confident.

Richard leans back a little at the sensation of his fingers working along his shaft.

Severin had a straight back, shoulders squared, such a _fierce_ look in his eyes as he had… requested permission to take Richie over his knees. _That was so embarrassing_. In front of everyone. Richard had almost totally lost his words.

But it sent heat burning to Richie's belly and lower.

And Jim had said yes at first.

Richard kept stroking, reminding himself of the astonishment and horror and desire. The fear that if Severin really did try to put Richie over his lap he'd have found Richie humiliatingly hard.

Richard swallows, palm damp and slippery, probably smelling awful now, as his hand continues to move.

Severin had powered forwards, closing the gap between himself and Richard. Had grabbed the front of Richie's pajamas tightly, dragging Richie close.

Possessively.

It makes Richard's lips fall open as a desirous little moan escapes at the recollection. He squirms, wriggling to get his pajama bottoms lower.

Imagining Rinn giving him that stare as he dragged an 'unwilling' Richie to.. the couch? His room?

His room, so the others can hear but not see.

And Severin might sit down on _this_ bed, eyes fierce and demanding, and he might force Richie towards him. Might drag down Richard's pajamas, making the brunet squeal and try to pull away.

But Rinn wouldn't let Richard get away. He'd smirk, maybe, and grip Richie hard. Won't let him get away.

Might lean in close, like he owned Richard and knew it. Pass his knowing gaze over Richie's humiliated, aroused form.

Make some teasing comment that would make Richard twitch, his stomach squirming.

“Please, Rinn,” Richie might whimper, partly in protest and partly in permission.

And Severin would _know_ and he'd look Richard all over, and pull him close. Taunt as he let a slap against Richie's bare bottom ring out through the room, making Richie cringe with the certainty that everybody outside could hear it. Jim, Sebastian, Janey and Jasper would _know_ that Richard was going to get spanked like a naughty little boy.

Richie almost felt like a little boy against Severin's larger, stronger, more masculine frame.

And Severin would see that difference, would enjoy it as Richie looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes and knew he was physically powerless to prevent Rinn from doing anything he liked.

Maybe Severin would tease Richard about it a little, a big hand teasingly stroking Richie's naked bum.

Richard gasps a little just thinking about it, his member solid in his grip.

Severin would pull little Richie over his knees as promised, and Richard wouldn't be able to do a thing to get away. Rinn might taunt, that possessiveness bleeding into his voice as he ran his fingers over Richie's cheeks, squeezing and teasing and then smacking, hard.

Hard enough to make Richie gasp and kick.

Rinn might chuckle, mocking Richard some more and continuing to spank a squirming, protesting, _hard_ Richard Brook.

And Richie would love it. He's be writhing and groaning and protesting and exclaiming and he would _love_ it.

Severin's grip firm around him. His voice playful. Spanks just the right side of pain, stinging just enough to make Richard's eyes water but not enough to make him cry or need it to stop.

Richard bucks his hips a little, trying to imagine Severin's muscular thighs against him, that strong hand, the heat of his body.

That voice. That gaze.

“Rinn,” Richard whimpers, trying to put a quiver in his very quiet voice, “no, please, it hurts...”

Richard can actually picture Severin's rich, mocking laughter. “Richie, it's supposed to hurt.”

More spanks, making Richie squeal and jerk, then that hand stroking Richard's hot skin soothingly. Teasing.

“You shouldn't be a naughty boy if you can't take a spanking, Richie,” Rinn might purr.

“I'll be good,” Richie might lie. “Please make it stop.”

Severin would spank Richard's red cheeks lazily. “I don't believe you, little boy. I think I need to make you sorry, don't you?”

And Richard would bite his lip, too proud to reply, and Severin would shatter that pride quickly, giving Richie a flurry of sore smacks until Richie cried out.

“Yes sir...” Would that work for Severin? Would he smirk at that, his lips spreading into something predatory? Would he drawl something seductive, trail his fingers down places that they shouldn't strictly be?

Richard pictures that heated gaze directed on himself.

Yes, Severin might just do that.

“No, Rinn, you _can't_...”

Severin would respond smugly, knowing he had Richie's consent from the way he bucked against his lap. “You don't give the orders from there, little boy,” he might tease.

And Richie would arch his back with difficulty to look around at Severin, and maybe Rinn would appreciate the desire in his gaze, might push him onto the mattress and kiss him as Richie whined his name in need.

And then the actual, real, live, Severin bursts through Richard's bedroom door with a glock raised and concern on his face.

Richie leaps forward, trying to hide himself, his face absolutely flaming, and Severin falters.

“Richie?” He shoves the gun in the waistband of his boxers swiftly.

“What are you doing?” Richard squeaks.

“You kept calling my name, you sounded in pain, I thought… Oh fuck, I'm sorry,” Severin says, but seconds later he doesn't look sorry.

He looks very pleased with Richie's bunny caught in the headlights look. “You are _filthy_ , Richard Brook.”

Richie somehow manages to turn an even darker colour, and despite the fright and humiliation he can't force himself to go down.

Literally caught with his hand down his pants. Saying Rinn's _name_.

Severin gives him that predatory look again and Richard twitches.

Rinn closes the door.

He steps towards the bed and looks down at Richard teasingly. “Thinking of me, were you?” he purrs.

Richard feels his insides squirm. There's no denying it.

“'Rinn… oh make it stop, please, it hurts,'” Severin whispers. “You want to tell me what you were thinking about?”

Richie shakes his head vehemently. He's so mortified. He can't…

Severin's hand snakes down to Richard's bare bottom. For the first time not thinking about Jim removing his hands. Rinn meets Richie's gaze and pats the skin pointedly. “Am I guessing correctly here?”

Richie wants to die. Wants to sink down through the mattress and die.

But he's still painfully hard.

“Uh huh,” Rinn says knowingly. He sits down on the bed beside Richard, making the brunet scoot over a little so they're not pressed against each other.

Severin looks Richard over. “You know you could have just asked?”

“And said what?” Richard asks bravely. “Please sir, can you make me sore?”

Severin snorts. “'Please Rinn' would do.”

Richie swallows. Stares up into those playful, unjudgmental, pleased eyes. “Please Rinn?”

Severin slowly leans closer and hovers his large hand just over Richard's straining sex. “You want a hand with that?”

Richie nods.

 

In the morning, Sebastian is prodding an irritable Jim in the side. “You owe me twenty quid, Kitten.”


End file.
